Promises Are Meant To Be Broken
by One Nutty Tree
Summary: Thanks so much to Amy for the title suggestion! This story is set during TASM. May be slightly AU. Basically I think that Peter shouldn't have had to break his promise to a dying man the way he did. One-shot.


Peter hobbled into his bedroom. Both he and Aunt May knew, although to a lesser extent for her, that 'rough night' was a severe understatement. He'd doen the best he could for most of his injuries, but he had no clue on how to deal with the bullet lodged in his leg. Going to hospital was out of the question. Although it would be ideal the place was probably brimming by now and he couldn't risk another person discovering his not so secret identity. After tonight he knew that it would only put people in danger.

He reloaded his webs and shot another patch over his leg before collapsing onto the bed. Absolutely exhausted, he closed his eyes.

When he re-opened them sunlight was shining through the curtains. Aunt May walked into his room and sat on the edge of the bed.

"What time is it?" Peter muttered.

"Nearly midday. I didn't want to wake you." His eyes widened and he promptly sat up. "Relax!" she laughed. "You're getting at least a week off school whilst they repair the damage." Peter eased back and Aunt May stood. "Breakfast is ready when you are." she smiled and headed back downstairs.

Reluctantly Peter acknowledged that maybe he should get up. He noted that he'd fallen asleep fully clothed. He rolled his eyes and whipped off the duvet. He grimaced. The sheets were covered in blood from his leg. It looked like it needed a new patch. Peter stared at the stained bedding and groaned. This was going to be one hell of a week.

* * *

Sure enough, Peter's prediction came true. He'd barely managed to make it to Captain Stacy's funeral, let alone the roof with his leg in such a state; he'd broken up with Gwen and to cap it all off school was restarting today.

He took a few staggered steps towards his locker then straightened up. He couldn't afford to attract attention. Peter took a deep breath and started to walk as normally as he could. Judging by Flash's cheerful, completely clueless greeting, Peter was a good actor, especially considering how light headed he felt. The bell rang and the halls started to empty but Peter found he couldn't move. The sound of the bell echoed painfully in his head. He didn't trust his leg not to buckle. He felt sick.

"Peter?" said a familiar voice.

"Gwen?"

He looked up, stepped forward and fell to the floor crying out in pain.

"Peter! God!" Gwen exclaimed. She knelt down next to him. "What's wrong?"

"Leg." he mumbled in response.

He closed his eyes as Gwen ripped his jeans to examine the damage. She gasped. Peter knew the patch had probably broken again.

"I thought you got this fixed – never mind. We need to get you to a hospital." she said, her voice shaking.

"No. They'll want to know how I got shot. Aunt May will find out." he protested.

"I'm not going to let you bleed to death on me!"

"Gwen please." he begged, looking her directly in the eye.

"Fine." Her tone hardened. "Lucky for you my mum's a doctor. You're coming home with me. Now." Her tone left no room for argument. "Stand up, I'll help you."

Peter shifted but only fell back further against the lockers.

"I can't!" he gasped.

Gwen's eyes flashed. She remembered only too well the last time he'd said that to her.

"Peter Parker I have seen you destroy an evil giant lizard man, don't tell me you can't stand up!" Gwen snapped.

Although he was taken aback, Peter couldn't help but smile.

"You sound like Aunt May on one of her bad days."

He slowly stood up, leaning heavily on the lockers. He shot another web at his leg. Gwen winced.

"That can't be hygienic."

"Let's hope your mum has something better."

Gwen used one arm to support Peter, the other to phone her mother and together they made their way into the school car park.

"Yes, I know – mum this is an emergency! Peter's bleeding. I'll explain when you get here." Peter let out another hiss of pain as Gwen hung up. "Just hold on."

"I – I'm sorry." he said suddenly.

"What for?"

"I'm sorry I couldn't save your dad."

"Peter it wasn't your fault." Gwen instantly replied.

"He was a good man. I didn't realise how good until that police officer started quoting statistics – "

"So you were at the funeral." Gwen interrupted.

Peter was silent. That was when Gwen's mother pulled up. She rolled down the window and eyed them both up and down. She frowned at the patch on his leg.

"Get him into the car." she announced.

The pair bundled into the back and Gwen focussed on winning an argument with her mother who'd started driving towards the hospital.

"Just take him to our house. We've got first aid stuff."

"Not for a bullet wound!"

"Mum we'll have to make do!"

"What happened?"

"Just trust me, I'll explain everything once we get home."

"That's what you said on the phone." her mother replied, but much to Gwen's relief she changed direction. "What is that on his leg? It can't be hygienic."

"That's what I said." Gwen smiled. She turned to Peter. He was semi-conscious.

"You know, what you told me on the porch, you were wrong." She cupped his cheek with one hand. "You can do this. You're just afraid to try. My dad doesn't make my choices, I do and right now I want my boyfriend back."

She leant forward and their lips met. Somehow, Peter knew he was going to be alright.


End file.
